Divination
by ThePet
Summary: Short, experimental piece, more free verse than prose. Just why *is* Snape so friendly with Filch? Complete. This is an experiment, please R+R!


Meat pie  
  
Tortoise.  
  
Tortoise.  
  
Meat pie.  
  
Tortoise-meat pie.  
  
Meat pie-tortoise.  
  
Meat pie…tortoise.  
  
Sigh.  
  
Try again.  
  
Meat pie…tortoise?  
  
Meat pie…with legs.  
  
Sigh.  
  
Meat pie…tortoise?  
  
Meat pie…half a tortoise. Without legs. With beak.  
  
Meat pie…snapping turtle!  
  
Ouch!  
  
Snapping turtle…meat pie.  
  
Phew.  
  
Meat pie…tortoise!  
  
Tortoise! Thank heaven!  
  
Tortoise…meat pie.  
  
Tortoise…biting meat pie.  
  
Biting meat pie…meat pie with legs.  
  
Meat pie with legs…meat pie.  
  
Eat meat pie.  
  
Meat pie with tortoise guts.  
  
Yurgh!  
  
I really hate transfiguration  
  
Tea.  
  
Drink tea.  
  
Hot tea.  
  
Ouch!  
  
Tea leaves.  
  
Read leaves.  
  
See something that looks like Cliff Richard in the nude.  
  
Quickly pour more tea.  
  
Drink tea.  
  
Ouch!  
  
Tea leaves.  
  
Read leaves correctly.  
  
A black dog…a grim!  
  
Fear!  
  
Danger. From behind!  
  
Ouch!  
  
Hit in the head with book thrown by Sirius Black.  
  
"Greasy git."  
  
Sigh.  
  
I sincerely despise divination  
  
Lunch.  
  
Great hall.  
  
Asparagus.  
  
Sigh.  
  
"Hello, git."  
  
"Leave me alone!"  
  
"Having a bad day are we?"  
  
"Poor baby."  
  
"I said sod off!"  
  
"Make us!"  
  
"I'm warning you!"  
  
You wouldn't dare!"  
  
Asparagus.  
  
Wingardium leviosa!  
  
"Yeurch!"  
  
"You oily little…"  
  
Later.  
  
Wizard's duel.  
  
Cheating swines!  
  
Four on one.  
  
Sick sense of humour.  
  
Hospital wing.  
  
"How did *that* get up there?!"  
  
Pain.  
  
Humiliation.  
  
Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Great amusement.  
  
Further humiliation.  
  
Depressed.  
  
Charms first lesson.  
  
Make decision.  
  
Pack personal items.  
  
Broomstick.  
  
Forbidden forest.  
  
Dark.  
  
Cold.  
  
Fear.  
  
Misery.  
  
Tears.  
  
Shame.  
  
Unloved.  
  
Despised.  
  
Made a fool of.  
  
By everyone.  
  
Wanting to die.  
  
Later.  
  
Colder.  
  
Weak.  
  
Hungry.  
  
Miserable.  
  
Lost.  
  
Noise.  
  
Panic.  
  
Closer.  
  
Stumble.  
  
Fall.  
  
Terror.  
  
Closer…  
  
Closer…  
  
Closer…  
  
Voice.  
  
Rough.  
  
Gentle.  
  
Human.  
  
"There you are!"  
  
Whimper.  
  
"Been looking for you."  
  
Shame.  
  
"Headmaster's throwing a fit…"  
  
Worry.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Surprise.  
  
You care?  
  
"Why? Good home, wealthy parents, not in trouble, intelligent, good in class…"  
  
They hate me.  
  
Because not like them.  
  
Darker.  
  
Disturbed.  
  
Different.  
  
Alone.  
  
Miserable.  
  
Frightened.  
  
Of myself.  
  
Who am I?  
  
No friends.  
  
"Malfoy…"  
  
Uses me.  
  
Hurts me.  
  
Laughs at me.  
  
Silence.  
  
Then…  
  
"I understand."  
  
Impossible.  
  
"Feel the same."  
  
Surely not.  
  
"Different too."  
  
Agreement.  
  
"You're not alone."  
  
Revelation.  
  
Relief.  
  
Weeping.  
  
Shame.  
  
"Don't be afraid."  
  
They won't accept me.  
  
"That's their fault."  
  
Not mine.  
  
"You're better than them."  
  
Maybe so…  
  
Maybe not.  
  
"No worse."  
  
True.  
  
But they tease.  
  
They hate me.  
  
I hate them.  
  
"They tease you…"  
  
Not just that.  
  
Jealous.  
  
They have what I want.  
  
Each other.  
  
Friendship.  
  
Love.  
  
"Because they're jealous…"  
  
Of me?  
  
What do I have?  
  
Nothing.  
  
Will it always be like this?  
  
"It'll get better. When you're older. Show 'em."  
  
Disbelief.  
  
"When I was your age…"  
  
You were *young*!?  
  
"Had no friends either…"  
  
Pity.  
  
"Thought I was tainted, unnatural…"  
  
Tell me about it.  
  
"Parents ashamed of me…"  
  
I know how that feels too.  
  
"So I do understand."  
  
I think you do.  
  
But they never will.  
  
Not Perfect Potter…  
  
Nor his fine faithful friends…  
  
Nor his beautiful girlfriend.  
  
Not secure, self-satisfied Malfoy…  
  
Nor his obsequious entourage.  
  
Not the teachers.  
  
Not my haughty mother…  
  
Nor my ashamed father.  
  
But you understand.  
  
In all the world.  
  
Just you.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Filch."  
  
"You're welcome, Severus." 


End file.
